‘NO – NOT – ONE – TIIINY – BIT!
‘Well, thank you for giving me your time…
‘YOU – ARE – WELCOME!’
‘Okay, goodbye.’
‘GOOD – BYE – FABIAN – NADERSSON!’
Astra ends the call and they all burst out laughing. There is nothing so liberating as when a telephone seller says goodbye.
They laugh and smile all the way to Gothenburg.
CHAPTER 40
The Book Fair Begins; the Book Ends
There are long winding queues outside the Book Fair. It is the wonderful first day when expectations are at their greatest. Professionals and the general public alike are welcome. Book lovers, teachers and librarians from the whole of Sweden have come. Publishers and authors from all over the world are there. Journalists are greedy for exciting interviews and compete to be the first to savour the ‘buzz’ of the day. The very heaviest titles are always released just in time for the fair. It is quite simply a paradise for those who delight in books in all their forms.
When the first day of the fair comes to a close, it turns into one great big party for mingling. The various publishing houses compete to arrange the most popular gatherings and clock up the most visitors. All are friends and all are happy.
Just in time for the first evening’s big fair get-together, Astra brakes at the side of the main entry to the gigantic Swedish Exhibition and Congress Centre. There too is the entrance to Gothia Towers, the fancy fair hotel renowned for its stylish cocktail bar on the twenty-third floor. Over the years, Astra has bought a lot of Bloody Marys for thirsty authors. Several of them have even thought that the entire storey revolves on its own axis, which must be regarded as a compliment to the bartenders.
Down in the hotel foyer, there are two uniformed police officers together with Evita Winchester. They are waiting for Astra and her party. The two policemen look like twins: both of them have a trimmed chin beard partly shaved in a pattern and short ash-blond hair with lighter streaks. They look enormous compared to the little bundle of energy, Evita.
Evita who is wearing green boots, a green leather skirt and a very large white blouse that reveals a nicely tanned shoulder, hugs Titus and Astra and politely welcomes their fellow travellers.
One of the policemen stretches out his big hand to Titus and addresses him in the local accent.
‘Hello there! My name is Glenn Johansson. This is my colleague Kevin Andersson. Evita Winchester here has given us some very interesting information about a certain Eddie X. Can we have a few words with you?’
‘Yes, you can indeed,’ says Titus grimly.
Winchester Publishing and Babelfish have – as usual – their gigantic stands next to each other: two explosions of red-hot books with colourful and flashy décor stretching from floor to ceiling. The two publishers are in the middle of the main hall as a symbol for their being the heart of the industry. Then, like rings on water, the smaller publishing houses, media companies, branch organisations and literary societies spread out. Hundreds of small and large stands populated by people of like mind.
When it is time for the big get-together for drinks, the security guards hang up thick ropes between the Winchester Publishing and Babelfish stands so that no unauthorised guests will get in and enjoy the free drinks. The ropes dangle loosely between smart brass posts. It looks very fancy, like an Oscar gala in miniature.
Every year the party at Babelfish starts up with Eddie X pumping up the mood with his warm poems about life and love. People inside as well as outside the ropes are welcome to listen. It is one of the highlights of the book fair and this year there are more people than ever in the premiere public. They are full of expectation.
Yes, Eddie X has also made his way to Gothenburg. He has driven fast and avoided the motorway as much as possible since he has had an unpleasant feeling of being followed. Now he has made his entry on the little stage in the middle of the Babelfish stand. He is barefoot and dressed in trousers, jacket and a buttoned-up shirt. His clothes are of super-creased cotton and the three items of clothing are batik-dyed in various shades of grey. It is different and very smart. His black hair is matted and the grey shades of his clothes are mirrored in his face. He has fist-size rings under his eyes, which stare right into the public. He is not his usual self at all. He must have planned a new exciting prank. You can see the public thinking: ‘This is going to be cool!’
He sits on a high bar stool and grabs the mike.
‘Hello. Everybody comfortable?’
‘Yeees,’ answer the public rather feebly.
‘I said: EVERYBODY COMFORTABLE?’
‘YEEES!’
‘Good for you.’
The public laughs. It’s amusing that he has switched perspectives. The loving one pretends to be grumpy. Hahaha.
‘I’m going to read something for you.’
‘YEEES!’
The people in the public look at each other. Now it’s starting. It’s going to be delightful and sincere.
‘This is something that Titus Jensen has written. Do you remember him?’
Everybody laughs. Of course they have heard of Titus and his readings. The has-been who threw away his writing career. And now Eddie X is going to read Titus Jensen. A sort of meta-event. Hahaha.
Eddie produces a copy of Treacherous Charades and turns to the first page. He has seen Titus do this many a time and now he lays on the theatrical effects as best he can.
‘“It is a daaark and stormy night. A high pressure area that has parked above the British Isles shows no tendency to divert to the north. The supercoooled sleet that has lashed Stockholm’s windows for more than two weeks suddenly passed over Johannes Karlsson’s attic flat. It rained into his little pad.”’
Pause for effect and a scattering of applause. The public smiles expectantly. It isn’t funny and warm yet, but it soon will be.
‘“In the glare of the lightning flashes Johannes could see that the floor was wet. It rained in even more and soon there were small waves on the floor and around the bed-legs. Johannes pulled the wet covers up over him, put on his goggles and observed the course of events. Pissing it down. How would he get to work now?”’
The public giggle. What a dreadful story.
They don’t have time to find out more about Johannes Karlsson. Two police officers climb up onto the stage. Eddie looks at them and his gaze becomes wild. He throws the book at the policemen, screams at them to disappear. The public laughs. Hahaha, now it’s starting for real. This is much funnier than the bedroom farces at the popular theatres. Eddie pushes the bar stool over when he tries to escape and the microphone smashes to the floor with a roaring echo in the loudspeaker. The grim-looking policemen have grabbed him each with a firm grip on one arm. They are a head taller than Eddie. His feet dangle freely between them.
‘NOOOO!’ he screams.
A man comes onto the stage. It is Titus Jensen! The man in black is now dressed completely in white. White buttoned-up frill shirt, white leather trousers, white leather jacket and white patent-leather shoes. He smiles like an American TV faith-healer. Somebody turns an extra spotlight on. The flood of white light almost dazzles the public. What’s going on? Titus Jensen lifts up the microphone and taps it. Yep, it works.
‘Hello?’
The public are now quiet. This is exciting. The police seem indifferent. Eddie looks desperate, dangling there between them. He stares at Titus with murder in his eyes.
‘Hello. Hi, my name is Titus Jensen. I know you have come here to listen to Eddie X. But I want to borrow your ears for a minute. Is that okay?’